


Synergistic Merger

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Post-Divorce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 20:58:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11260866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Synergy: the interaction or cooperation of two or more organizations, substances, or other agents to produce a combined effect greater than the sum of their separate effects. Or, when two assholes that no one else can handle--especially not their exes--fall in love and produce an even greater combined assholish effect.





	1. Chapter 1

"I think you're overreacting a bit," he remarked into his phone.

"Don't be daft, this is important."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, you couldn't see, but I rolled my eyes. It's a baby shower, Arthur. And it's not even _my_ family, it's yours."

"Michelle insists that you come," the man, Arthur, responded.

"I haven't even seen her in years." Disinterested, he spun around his office chair, accidentally banging his knee on a corner of his desk. "Ow! Fuck!"

"What?"

"Nothing, just hit my knee. Look, I don't particularly want to spend time with my ex-husband and his pregnant daughter, is that a crime?"

"No, but I know you're over all that, Alfred. You're being ridiculous. You visit Francis and I all the time."

"Usually Michelle isn't there."

"Oh so it's her fault?"

"Well, it's not her, per se, but the idea of her. Look, I'll swing by the party for, like, an hour or so. Email me something on her registry and I'll pick it up, alright?"

"You know, money's not the answer to all your problems," Arthur snapped.

Alfred silently mocked the words before responding. "Yeah, well, whatever," he said smartly. "I'll get her _two_ things, then, I'm sure she'll be very happy to see me."

"Bring some guacamole, will you?"

"What? Why?"

"Because she's pregnant and wants guacamole, I don't know! That or bake something, which I know you're too incompetent—"

He laughed. "Oh, don't go insulting my cooking skills, Art. We know who between us is the hopeless one in the kitchen. I'll bring a giant thing of guac, okay?"

"Thank you."

"See you this weekend, then."

"Bye." He hung up.

Alfred sighed. He'd been looking forward to a relatively free weekend; he'd been planning to golf with some of his new interns in an effort to appear more "approachable", perhaps catch up on the shows clogging up his DVR. But, Arthur always had a way of disturbing his peace. Their years together made him something of an expert at it, actually. He rose from his desk, checking his phone for Arthur's email with Michelle's requested baby items. He forwarded the list to his secretary and told her to pick up the two priciest items by the next day. _What a chore_ , he whined to himself. _To think I have to do so much work for this party!_ Remembering, he sent a follow up message telling her to practice making some guacamole. He was a man who loved making good impressions, and bringing crappy, store-bought guac was hardly the way to go about impressing anyone.

* * *

.

Only a few blocks away, a second player was caught in a similarly inconvenient spot due to his ex-husband.

"And remind me," he contemplated his drink before continuing the phone call. "Why on earth your younger brother wants me at his wedding?"

His conversation partner cursed in his native tongue, Chinese, as it was, annoyance clear and familiar to the questioner.

"I don't know, Ivan, he just does. Will you please come? He was so upset that you missed the RSVP date."

"They are aware we divorced, right?"

"Of course they are! God, can't you just pretend to be agreeable for one damn day?"

"Sounds like too much effort," Ivan replied with a snarky tone. "They don't even have an open bar, why bother?"

"I'll bring you some vodka, you alcoholic. Lee wants to see you. You haven't even met his fiancé, and it's been years! He's a great boy, great family, too."

"Ah yes," he chuckled. "Since that's all that matters to you, how could I forget?"

"You know what?" he said. "Forget it. Come or don't, I don't care. Goodbye, Ivan."

Ivan pulled his phone from his ear, seeing that the call had been ended. He laughed. "Yao Yao, always so touchy." Still, he pulled up a travel site, booking a flight for that weekend. As much as he didn't want to partake in any event at which his ex would be in attendance, he supposed he didn't want to seem like a complete asshole to the Wang clan, especially since they were prominent financial backers for his firm. Flight booked, he spent the rest of his night watching the news with his cat who only bit him a record low three times—perhaps it wasn't so bad an evening, after all.

* * *

Michelle had been ecstatic to see her favorite "uncle," showering Alfred with hugs and kisses. She hardly even cared that he'd been so kind as to bring her presents, insisting that his "company was the only gift she needed." Alfred noted her parents, Arthur and Francis, both fighting not to groan at her perpetually bubbly attitude toward him.

Feeling a bit unwelcome at the party—while Arthur was the black sheep of the Kirkland family, even among them Alfred was clearly the outlier, the reject, the useless ex who'd hurt their baby brother years ago—he only stayed for an hour, as he'd promised, spending more time bonding with the guac—amazingly prepared, he noted—than with the guest of honor.

No one stopped him when he'd excused himself, as he'd timed it just so: Michelle was busy in the kitchen speaking with Francis about the cake he'd made. Once outside the house, Alfred searched for the nearest bar, finding a suitable enough spot just down the street from his hotel, and he parked his rental car in the concrete garage before walking straight over. Despite his youthful looks, he was old enough to be carded which prompted him to buy a Long Island with a pout on his face; he drank somberly, as if mourning the loss of his younger years.

* * *

Ivan had had a surprisingly enjoyable time at the wedding; Yao's siblings were always fun to be around, and he enjoyed pestering them. Even Lee's spouse had an interesting family, a spirited group who had become Ivan's unwilling drinking partners for the evening. He didn't remember much, but Yao hadn't yelled at him, so he knew he'd been a passable drunkard, at least.

But, the following day was hell on his head and body—how he missed the years long past when he could drink incomprehensible amounts and still wake up smiling and ready to take on the day. He'd spent the morning hours in misery, the afternoon in the hotel's spa, then finally, after a quick dinner from room service, walked to the bar across the street, hoping for a little pick-me-up.

* * *

Though the bar was openly advertising their happy hour drink specials, Alfred and Ivan were the only patrons. Alfred was still working on his Long Island by the time Ivan showed up and plopped himself down on a stool a few spots down from him.

"Vodka, please," he said to the bartender when he approached. Alfred couldn't help but chuckle. Ivan's steely gaze met his amused one, and he raised a brow. "Something funny?"

"No, not at all. Just this huge, bear-looking guy walkin' in, all, 'vodka, now, ho ho ho'… okay, it's a bit funny."

"I do not enjoy cocktails," he responded simply.

Alfred shrugged. "I can appreciate wanting to get drunk with as little liquid as possible, so do continue." With a loud slurp, he finished off his drink. When the bartender placed Ivan's drink, promptly knocked back, Alfred held up a finger to get his attention. "Bourbon, on the rocks, please. And another vodka for the bear."

Ivan smiled slightly. "How kind. I hope you're not expecting anything in return."

"Of course not, do you peg me as that kinda guy?" He reached his hand between them. "The name's Alfred. Alfred Jones."

Ivan took it, shaking firmly. "Ivan Braginsky."

"Nice to meet you." He clinked their new drinks. "Cheers."

* * *

Within an hour, the bar had begun to fill, and the new friends had moved to a more private booth, finding in each other something of a kindred spirit. They were both rather rude and brash, though too cruel to notice how their verbal barbs may be harmful to anyone, having a natural tendency to only care for themselves. They'd already discussed their day-to-day, amazed to realize that they both worked in the same city, with Alfred as the CEO of an impressive but relatively unknown financing company and Ivan a lawyer at a firm specializing in protecting such companies from lawsuits.

"So what brings you out here to the middle of nowhere, Ivan?" Alfred asked, waving over a waitress for another round of shots—he'd taken to following Ivan's example after they'd moved.

"I was here for my ex's younger brother's wedding."

Alfred laughed at Ivan's clear discomfort. "Seriously? Was it awkward?"

"Not really. He's married again, himself."

"Oh, your ex? Husband? Or just a boyfriend?"

"Husband."

"Small world! I'm out here for, get this, my ex-husband's—who also remarried—adopted daughter's baby shower."

"You came all the way out here for a baby shower?" he scoffed.

"That's what I said!"

"Do you two get along well?"

"Oh, not at all. We've always been like cats and dogs, you know? He was just so prim and proper and kinda boring but when I was eighteen and living with a drugged-up mom and never really knowing where my next meal was coming from… it was nice, you know? And, I guess he was into the whole 'rebel' vibe I had going on," he smiled. "I was a total asshole, just a punk, I know. We got married real young."

"I see. You seem to have made a lot of yourself since then, though."

"Oh yeah, he supported me through school. Then, I got into investment banking, eventually became my own boss… he was never impressed by all that, though. Said it changed me too much." He rolled his eyes. "That, and the fact that I never wanted to adopt… shattered his rosy glasses, I guess." He didn't seem all too torn up about the story. "What about you? Why'd you and your man split?"

"We split pretty recently, it was only a few years ago, actually. But, we got married much later in our lives than you. We were both just lonely, I suppose. On the surface, we seemed very compatible. But, it was boring. And we didn't really talk about things so we'd have fights that were just culminations of months' worth of issues, so that was always taxing. Plus, the sex wasn't all that great. It wasn't his fault, or anything. It just…"

"No spark?"

"As cheesy as it sounds, that's about right."

"He remarried, huh?" Alfred hummed. "How soon after the divorce?"

"Half a year after it finalized."

"Ouch."

Ivan laughed. "To someone I introduced him to, too."

"Double ouch."

"Who did this Arthur person remarry?"

He waved his hand. "Nothing too dramatic. Just his childhood friend slash rival. They'd dated before we'd met, I think. I can't even find it in myself to hate Francis, since I know he really makes Arthur happy."

"That's kind of you."

He scoffed. "Hardly. It's been, what? Going on seventeen years since we split? Damn, I'm getting old. I often forget about it, honestly, too busy with work."

"How long were you married?"

"Six years? Or so…"

"You're older than you look, then."

"I'll take that as a compliment. How long were you and Yao together?"

"Eight years."

Alfred whistled low. "Damn. What are you, then, like… fifty?"

He glared. "Do I look fifty to you?"

"Ha! I didn't say that, don't get so mad!"

"I'm forty-three."

"Ah, that makes more sense. Did you ever try dating again?"

"Not really. I feel too old for it. I've been told I'm rather disagreeable, plus people are just idiots, so why bother?"

"Amen," Alfred lifted his drink to his mouth. "Jeez, I haven't drank this much in a while!"

"Is this a lot?" Ivan's eyes glanced over the emptied glasses.

"Don't tell me you're an alcoholic, too!" Alfred teased.

"I function, so it's not alcoholism."

"This man gets it!" he announced to the room that had been ignoring them. "When do you fly out?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. And you?"

"Same time, I think. Wait, what time exactly? Don't tell me we're on the same flight! You flying into JFK?"

He shook his head. "LaGuardia. I have a layover too," he whined.

"That sucks… I hate flying, always get first-class and no layover, myself."

"Sounds nice."

Alfred smiled. "Perks of having money, I suppose. Sorry, that's kind of rude, isn't it?"

"I don't mind. You earned it, didn't you?"

"Yeah, you're right. You know, you seem like an awesome guy, Ivan! We're cut from the same cloth, you and I. Divorced assholes with drug problems working in fast-paced, hypercompetitive industries."

"I suppose that's one way to put it."

Alfred's eyes froze on Ivan's face before darting to the half of his body that could be seen over the table. Ivan squirmed under the scrutiny, glad he'd changed into a suit.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" Alfred asked.

He mulled the proposal over for a few seconds. "Sure, why not?"

* * *

"I just think their argument is completely idiotic," Alfred said. In his high-rise's kitchen, he was slaving over three skillets, preparing breakfast for two.

"Of course it's idiotic," Ivan scoffed. He sipped at his coffee while perusing the newspaper. "They're idiots."

"Ah, brilliant. If you say that during the trial, do you think you'll win the case?"

He rolled his eyes. "You know it's not a trial."

"Your work is so boring. Where's Judge Judy when you need her?"

"Boring is good in my line of work. You've managed to make it _too_ interesting," he groaned.

"Thanks!" Alfred chirped.

"It wasn't a compliment. You'd better shape up by next quarter. I'm getting sick of covering your ass."

"But you love my ass," he pouted. Ivan only hummed. Chuckling lightly, Alfred turned off the burners, plating their meal. "It's all because of this acquisition, anyway, it's not my fault the Wang's had all that shit hidden for years. And then _I'm_ the one taking the blame for it!"

"It _was_ pretty surprising. I wonder if Yao ever knew?"

"Doubt it. Didn't you say he wasn't too interested in all that?"

"Yes, he was a disappointment to the family since he became a medical doctor rather than a businessman."

Alfred laughed. "How's the food?" he asked before Ivan even had a chance to dig in.

After a bite, he nodded. "Good, as always. Thank you."

"I'm sure everything will be fine by the end of the month. Then we have to deal with these demands for wage increases."

"So dull."

"They're _your_ employees."

"Can't I just fire them? Guarantee I can get some snobby college interns to do the same work for free, not fifteen damn bucks an hour."

He shrugged. "I don't care what you do with them, but your PR manager might."

"Doesn't he work for you?"

"Technically, yes."

"Then tell him not to care."

"We'll see."

Alfred glanced at his watch. The gold ring on his left finger matched the face perfectly, he noted with a smile. "Oh shit, I need to go."

"Why so early?"

"Meeting with my lawyer."

" _I'm_ your lawyer."

"Oh, I suppose that's true." Alfred leaned over the table, kissing Ivan deeply. "Can I schedule an appointment, then, Mr. Braginsky?"

"I already have this time-slot filled with an obnoxious CEO, actually," he returned the smile, snaking his arms around Alfred's waist and pulling him to his lap.

"That's a shame. I hope that's not the only thing being filled this morning."

Ivan chuckled. "You're insufferable."

"And insatiable, they say. Cunning, handsome, bold, et cetera."

"Please don't quote that dreadful article when we're about to have sex."

"Who said anything about sex? I have a meeting."

Ivan only rolled his eyes before rising, carrying his husband to their bedroom for their impromptu meeting. It would hardly be a bother for either of them to be late since they set the schedule at work, so he could take his time. He knew Alfred had an important meeting with some investors that afternoon, so despite his instructions, Ivan made sure to leave a conspicuous mark just above his collar, a bit of revenge for Alfred's company making his own work so damn hard those days. It was childish and petty—mean, some might argue—but that was who they were. Neither of them were people who were easily handled by others, as experience showed, so who better—who else, really, would even want to?—to take care of each other than themselves?

* * *

 **_Synergy:_ ** _the interaction or cooperation of two or more organizations, substances, or other agents to produce a combined effect greater than the sum of their separate effects._


	2. Chapter 2

"What the hell are you doing?" Ivan asked, irritation evident in his tone. He regarded his fiancé for a moment before getting back to work on fixing his tie.

"Calling the guests," he replied simply. He brought his phone to his ear after hitting send.

"Why?"

"We're cancelling."

"Cancelling… the wedding?"

"Yes."

"The wedding that's in…" he checked his own phone. "Four hours?"

"No, the other one. Of course that one!" He put on a fake smile. "Yao! Good afternoon! Yes, everything's fine! Just a quick announcement—hey!" he pouted when Ivan snatched his phone.

Without a word to his ex, Ivan ended the call. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet."

Alfred laughed. "Don't be dumb! I don't get nervous."

"Then why do you wish to cancel our wedding?"

"Because I'm hideous."

A long, loud sigh. Ivan had a few options, most of which would conclude with Alfred whining about something or other. Not one for direct compliments, Ivan chose a more backhanded route. "You think I would marry someone if they were hideous?"

His pout only deepened. Oops, Ivan thought. "Then it's better this way. If you see me, you'll leave me."

"What's the problem?"

Alfred whirled rapidly, pointing at an inflamed, pus-filled blemish on his cheek. "This is the problem!"

Ivan winced—it was pretty ugly—but rolled it eyes. "Just go pop it."

"It'll still be noticeable!"

"Then wear some of your makeup."

"I don't own makeup!"

Ivan peeked from their room to the master bath where a number of cosmetics, about six shades darker than Ivan's own pale skin, cluttered the counter. "You wear makeup whenever you have a big meeting. What's the problem?" he repeated.

"It's so ugly!" Alfred whined.

"You're not wrong."

"Ivan!"

He reached out, cupping Alfred's face in one, burly hand. "I'll pop it for you then."

"Ew that's gross!"

"I literally ate your ass last night."

"That's different!"

They wrestled a bit, both strong enough to make the squabble more interesting. In the end, Ivan ended up on top of Alfred, straddling his chest and futilely squirming arms and hovering over his face. His fingernails, trimmed and cleaned, weren't the most convenient tool for the job, but after a bit of work, he managed to reduce the appearance of the offensive pimple. He rolled off of Alfred who dashed to the bathroom to repair the damage, wiping up the blood and pus while cursing to himself.

"Ugh, your thick-ass sausages marred my perfect face!"

"It's far from perfect if you're still getting pimples at forty-four," he noted.

"It's indicative of my vibrant youthfulness, you Scrooge," he huffed. His fresh wound was still bleeding, though he dabbed up each drop of blood vigilantly. "Now I have to wait to put on makeup. It'll be even worse tomorrow! All full of this gunk," he said, glaring at his foundation.

With another roll of his eyes, Ivan scooped up his suit jacket. "Perhaps if you didn't eat such greasy foods every day, you wouldn't be in this situation."

"Hey now, don't talk to me like that, Mr. Back-ne. Every time I scratch your back my nails end up bloodier than… uh… something really bloody!"

"Clever," Ivan hummed. "You should eat better, though. We're not poor, you can afford nicer things."

"And you should shower more often."

"Actually, too much soap and water can be just as bad for acne. I don't wish to dry out my skin."

"Well then have the maid switch up our laundry detergent, or something. Sleep in clean clothes for once."

"You're the one who usually makes me sleep naked."

"Maybe we should change our sheets more often…"

"Maybe."

Alfred withdrew his tissue, finding it free of blood. Still, a red circle shone upon his skin, so he still had some time before he'd want to put on any makeup. "Speaking of grease, I'm kinda hungry. Can you go get me some McDonald's?"

"Oh my god," Ivan growled. "You're filthy."

"Says the guy who puts his tongue up my ass."

"And I can taste the Big Macs everytime."

"Woah, seriously?" Alfred grinned. "No way! No wonder you do it so often!"

Flushing slightly, Ivan walked up to his fiancé and delivered a swift smack to the back of the head. "You'd better clean up your mouth before the reception. You know how everyone else is about your crassness!"

"Don't worry, babe, I got this!"

* * *

Despite his confidence, Alfred most certainly did not have it. And, despite his warning, Ivan didn't care enough to reprimand his disobedience.

Ivan was rather impressed that Yao had made it an hour before exploding.

"That's it!" he yelled, slamming his mug down on the table loudly. The room looked at him expectantly. Because Ivan and Alfred didn't talk to their families and didn't have many friends, they'd booked a small, private room at one of their favorite steakhouses for the reception dinner; they figured all their guests were too old for dancing and making general fools of themselves, anyway.

"What is it, Yao?" Ivan asked with a slight giggle, his several drinks having brightened his mood considerably. He supposed the fact that he was now lawfully wed to the man who could perhaps only be described as his soulmate in depravity also served to keep a smile on his face.

"Yeah, dude? My bro. Yao." Alfred raised his brows. "What's up?"

"First of all, stop calling me Yao!"

"Why? It's your name."

"Second," Yao ignored him. "Stop saying 'dude' and 'it's lit' and dabbing every second—you act like a child!"

He pouted. "But it's fun… funner than being a stuffy old foagie like you."

"'More fun', love," Arthur politely corrected. At Francis's insistance, he'd only been sipping water all evening, knowing that any alcohol would coerce him into some verbal spar, just the same as Yao, though probably more slurred.

"Oh, right. Grammar," Alfred smiled. "Thanks, Artie!"

"Of course."

"Third," Yao continued. "I think everyone here would greatly appreciate it if you stopped speaking so crudely! It's revolting!"

"What did I say that was crude?" Alfred asked, genuinely unaware.

"You left the table twenty minutes ago saying you had 'a fuck ton of shit to go shit'!" he crinkled his nose in disgust. "No one wants to hear that!"

"Oh, really?"

"It's a bit personal," Francis sniffed. "Perhaps better to be kept to yourself."

"Oh… Ivan, do you mind?"

"Of course not. I'm mature enough to recognize that it's a human action. Sure, you're not too eloquent with announcing it, but I'm used to your weird quirks by now."

"Thanks, babe!" he smiled. Turning to Yao, his face became more serious. "Would you like me to use bigger words? 'Cause, this was an experience, let me tell you! My anus has become thoroughly compromised after such a monumental yet spirit-cleansing excretion! It must have been the Taco Bell from yesterday. But, I guess it's fine. That just means I get to top tonight."

Ivan laughed. "Oh, sounds fun."

Yao's face was pale. "There! That, too! You two are both so shameless! Keep your sex lives to yourselves, please!"

"Why?"

"Because it makes me feel uncomfortable given that Ivan is an ex."

"I see," Alfred responded, clearly not "seeing" anything. "Eh, but Arthur's come to me asking for advice for wooing Francis, and it's not weird."

"You did, mon lapin?" Francis asked of Arthur who was a bit busy choking on his water to answer.

"Sure! He was always so shy, I'm sure you know, so he asked me how I have so much confidence in the bedroom. Advised him a bit. Told him to take charge and be more vocal about what he wants!"

"Oh, well thank you," Francis said with a nod. Though his relation to Alfred was a curious one, he hardly had any resentment toward Arthur's ex, especially not those days; he was secure enough in his and Arthur's marriage to know that Alfred would never be a threat.

"Don't mind him" Ivan insisted. "Yao's just very proper about things. He's hardly innocent, though."

"Ivan!" Yao flushed.

"I'm only teasing," he insisted.

"I don't appreciate you talking about me to Alfred, either."

"Oh, he's never done that," Alfred insisted. "Er, well, never anything negative, at least. He'll compare us on occasions. Says I'm a lot worse at cooking, heavier to pick up, brattier, naggier, more annoying…" he counted a finger with each insult.

"You also have much worse skin," Ivan noted. He poked at Alfred's cheek. "Just this morning he had a giant zit!" he laughed.

"Oh my god," he groaned, head flopping forward onto his hands. "So embarrassing."

"That's what embarrasses you?" Yao asked, shocked. "You're incredible."

"Isn't he?" Ivan asked fondly, wrapping an arm around Alfred and pulling him close. "Don't be sad, dorogoy, you can hide your pizza face against me. I'm okay if no one else sees you!"

Alfred laughed, nuzzling against Ivan slightly. The taller man flicked the top of his head. "Don't get makeup on my shirt, idiot."

Pulling away, Alfred winced on seeing that some of his foundation had rubbed off on Ivan's white shirt. "Oops, too late."

Ivan rolled his eyes before pushing him away.

"I don't understand you two," Yao confessed. "No offense, Ivan, but you're absolutely irritating! You're horrible at romance, demanding about everything, impatient, quick to anger, an alcoholic, averse to pets, traveling, fun…"

Ivan deflated with each quip. "That's a bit offensive."

"Don't look so down!" Alfred beamed. "He did preface it with 'no offense'. And, you totally are all those things."

"Ah, thank you," Ivan responded dejected. "And you are immature, crass, irrational, cruel, sadistic, selfish. You've forgotten my birthday and Valentine's Day every year, hit on my sister even after knowing who she was and in front of my face, are too lazy to even get me off after I do you, and I'm pretty sure you're the type to kick a puppy."

The party stared at Alfred, waiting for his reaction. He seemed close to tears.

"Babe…" he began weakly. "You're so observant!" he threw his arms around Ivan's neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. "I love you too!"

"Er," Arthur averted his eyes. "Those seemed more heartfelt than their vows, I must say."

"White people are fucking crazy," Yao noted. He only watched the newlyweds make out for a few more moments before turning to Arthur. "They're both horrible people."

Pulling away, Ivan chuckled. "We can hear you, you know."

"Shut up," Alfred said, dragging him back to him to continue their public kiss.

"This is kinda weird," Michelle remarked while taking a large sip of her wine.

"True," Francis sighed. "But it's romantic."

"How the hell is this romantic?" Arthur asked. "I've tried to remain civil, but this is a bit much. I may lose my dinner."

"Because, cher, they clearly love each other."

"I don't see how," Yao huffed. "They're dreadful to be around."

"But, they are very happy," Francis insisted with a smile. "Sure, they're both a bit unorthodox…. And rude… and truly their businesses are amoral and a bit of a blight to the earth…"

"Can still hear you," Alfred commented. "I'll sue you for libel."

"It'd be slander, dear," Ivan corrected. "Libel is defamation via published writing."

"Oh," Alfred said simply. "Then I'll sue you for slander! Ivan, get to work!"

"Can it be called slander if it's true?" Ivan asked.

"I dunno, you're the fancy lawyer!"

Ivan laughed. "I'm too drunk to remember right now."

"You've barely even drank tonight!"

"He's had six in the last hour," Arthur said.

"Creepy, dude," Alfred laughed. "Like I said, nothing!"

"I'm not trying to pass out," he replied.

"Can't you do anything in moderation?" Yao chastised.

"Moderation?" Ivan asked.

"We don't know the meaning of the word!" Alfred smiled.

"It means to avoid extremes," Ivan clarified.

"Oh… well I suppose Ivan _knows_. We don't believe in it, however."

"It's not really a matter of belief," Yao said, rolling in eyes.

"We aren't practitioners, then," Ivan said. "Anyway, are you quite done with your complaining, Yao?"

"Er, yes, I suppose." His shoulders slumped. "You two are completely unaffected. Do you even care about appearances?"

Alfred laughed. "I guarantee you that in all the earth, you wouldn't find a man who cares more about appearances than me."

Ivan nodded. "It's true. He's very narcissistic."

"If you got it, flaunt it," he defended. Ivan only smiled in agreement. "I like to maintain an open and honest appearance. So, I tend to speak my mind."

"Perhaps more often than necessary," Arthur said. "I was always astounded with how outspoken you were. I thought you'd be more emotionally stunted, but you're very expressive, just stupid about it."

"I'm not stupid!" he whined. "I just don't know words. I was a business major, for Pete's sake! I spent more nights at the bar than studying! So what if I can't read or write too well… I can sway a crowd or strike a deal like none other."

"Of course you're not stupid," Arthur crossed his arms.

"Yes, you're very brilliant," Ivan nuzzled the top of his head.

"You two are disgusting with the PDA," Yao remarked.

"Thanks! I can't help but wanna jump this guy everytime I see him!" Alfred pinched at Ivan's cheek. He attempted to bite his finger in retaliation.

"They're a lot like little kids on the playground," Michelle said.

"Gross," Alfred winced. "Kids."

Michelle laughed. "That's right. Didn't you and dad break up 'cause you didn't want me?"

"Glad I got out while I could," Alfred teased. He and Michelle were close enough that the barb was far from hurtful. "And look how you lucked out! Two doting, overly gay parents. How fun! Plus, you got the cool uncle who buys you whatever you want!"

"Speaking of," Arthur said. "The car on her sixteenth birthday was already enough… and now a new one?" He was glaring.

"What? She can't go around with a sports car now that she's pregnant—again. –Seriously, Chelle, have you heard of protection? The Lexus is top of its class in safety, according to the commercials! It was either that or a Ford, since their commercials are just so damn patriotic I almost couldn't resist."

She giggled. "Dad, don't be such a party-pooper. I greatly appreciated the gift, Uncle Al."

"Of course you would," Arthur rolled his eyes. "He's such a greedy, money-grubbing miser—"

"Ah," Francis interrupted. "Thank you, Alfred. It was a kind gesture. We know it's how you express your love."

"Never buys me anything," Ivan pouted.

"Babe, I bought you season tickets to your favorite ballet… And I bought the plane tickets so you could go to Moscow for each one!"

"Holy shit," Yao whistled.

"Plus, I just got you a car, too!"

"A car isn't a gift… It's something I need to have."

Alfred sighed. "What about the tickets, then?"

Ivan grumbled.

"What was that?" Alfred asked.

"It's hardly a fun trip if you're not there."

"Aw," he cooed. "Babe! What a pathetically sentimental thing to say!"

"Way to ruin the mood," Arthur said.

"I didn't want to go 'cause if I did, I'd just complain the whole time. Plus, last time I tried, my visa application for Russia got rejected, so…"

"You tried?" Ivan asked.

"Well, of course!"

"Oh, that's nice of you to think of me… But, I wouldn't mind if you came and just complained. It'd be better dealing with your annoyingness than not seeing you."

"How sweet," Francis smiled.

"I'm gonna puke," Yao stuck out his tongue.

"Well no worries, Ivan! Now you get to deal with my annoyingness forever, till death do we part!"

"I look forward to it," he kissed the tip of Alfred's ear, finally earning a blush from his husband.

"I need another drink," Yao stood and made his way to the bar, too impatient to wait for their inattentive server.

"This turned out to be a nice little party," Alfred said.

"Those are words that you could use to describe it…" Arthur began. "Words… that you chose… with confidence, yes."

"Thank you! You're always so nice, Artie!"

"God, you're an idiot."

"Stop flirting with him," Ivan glared. "He's mine."

"You two really take the whole insults as endearments thing seriously, don't you?" Michelle asked. "It's a bit weird, but it suits you. I'm happy uncle Ivan is officially part of the family! And, Dr. Wang, too! Where's his husband, anyway?"

"Kiku's away on business," Ivan answered.

"What a vague excuse. That's definitely what I'd say if I ever cheat on you, Ivan."

"I'll remember that."

"Where's your sister live? I think I've got some business wherever she is."

Another light smack to his head. "You're the worst."

"So you do see it, then," Yao said while sitting, beer in hand.

"It'd be impossible not to."

Alfred smiled. "Since Ivan's totally obsessed with me, it's no surprise he knows. Plus, he knows all of my business dealings, too."

Yao sniffed. "They are rather shady. And yet, he's still here. Don't you have some moral code, Ivan? Don't you feel any guilt? I heard the last person you two counter-sued had to file for bankruptcy. Her wife and she are nearly homeless."

"Guilt…" Ivan pondered the word. "I was only doing my job."

"And he did a great job! Her claim was baseless! Ivan's only making sure people don't abuse the law for their own gain!"

"By abusing the law for your own gain?"

"I'm a corporation, not a people!" he laughed. "Is Yao bitter because I took your daddy's business?"

"You didn't take it, it was acquired. And I'm not bothered that my family washed their hands of that horrid business; our trading company back home is much more lucrative, anyway."

"Oh, I know," Alfred's eyes had a mischievous glint. "Headquartered in Hong Kong, isn't it?"

Ivan laughed. "Coincidentally, that's where we're honeymooning."

Yao glared. "You two are planning something."

"It's not as if I could so easily snatch anything during the two months we're there."

"Two months? Good heavens, that's a long vacation," Arthur said.

"But, it's enough to get invited to any number of important meetings," Ivan noted.

"My father hates you," Yao scoffed.

"But your brother loves Ivan."

"Lee?"

"He's slotted to be president next, isn't he?" Alfred looked to Ivan, faking innocence.

"I think so," Ivan smiled. "He just loves me; after every case I win he calls and just gushes about it."

"Dammit," Yao said. "You two've corrupted poor little Lee."

"Actually, it was his husband who helped out, we can't take all the credit."

"Emil?"

"Of course, what other husband is there?" Ivan replied snarkily. "His family owns a number of lucrative ventures in northern Europe, and their goods are exported exclusively through Wang's Shipping. His uncles have heavy investments in their overseas operations, as well, with offices here in New York. Alfred found them shortly after the acquisition… made a deal… it was natural that Lee would want to work with us since we're already tied to his husband and partner."

Yao contemplated his drink. "You too are surely going to hell."

Alfred laughed, a loud, booming sound. "Well, at least we only have to make reservations for one bed. Hopefully they have California King Size. Ivan, the big baby, won't sleep in anything smaller."

"We're both huge, it only makes sense," he whined.

Yao took another drink; he'd need a lot more to make it through this dinner, and to make it through this marriage, at that. At least he had a few years before Lee would officially become president, a few years before Alfred and Ivan's ambitious takeover could come to fruition.

"You look sick, Yao," Alfred smiled, a hint of malice hidden behind perfect rows of white. "You seem more nervous about the wedding than me and Ivan!"

Alfred seemed concerned, but Yao knew he knew how right he was. He glanced at Ivan, whose own smiling eyes betrayed his admiration for his partner. He gulped at his beer and laughed a bit uncomfortably. "Don't be silly. All this worrying will give you wrinkles."

He gasped, fingers pressing into his face in an effort to stretch the skin. "Ivan! You said my wrinkles weren't that noticeable."

"I said they were better than my grandfather's…" Ivan was still staring at Yao, curiosity written across his face. He raised a brow, asking a silent question.

Yao only nodded, and Ivan smiled. They'd known each other for almost their whole lives, after all, and though they didn't work out romantically, they still had a strong platonic bond that allowed for such communication. Ivan was glad that Yao finally approved of his marriage, even if he was clearly scared. Not for Ivan, never for Ivan—though Yao could talk for hours about how selfish Ivan was, Yao was similar in a way, always looking out for himself first. It was one of the things Ivan admired most about him. No, he was worried about what their marriage meant for everyone, and thus, for him, of course.

Ivan's smile shifted to Alfred, who, though a bit confused at the random grin, returned the loving look. It wasn't simply love, however; it was respect, mutual hunger, and the promise of power.

The world had every reason to be scared.

* * *

_**Merger:** 1\. (law) the absorption of an estate, a contract, or an interest in another, of a minor offense in a greater, or of a cause of action into a judgment; 2. absorption by a corporation of one or more others; also : any of various methods of combining two or more organizations (as business concerns)_


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